


After the Fall

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Half Life Trilogy - Sally Green
Genre: Baby Fic, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Murder, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Nathan and Gabriel didn't bring up the war with their daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Fall

5.  
Between the fact that her hair is impossibly straight, that Gabriel is terrible at combing hair and that HE is just as bad, Abigail is stuck with having her hair combed in a braid, in a ponytail and, sometimes, after she has gone 'PWEAAAASE' at them, in forever messy and loopsided pigtails.

But she doesn't seem to mind too terribly. Sitting on front of Gabriel, using an old brush to comb through her doll's hair, she is humming the same tune that Gabriel is, a French kid's song about puppets that Gabriel used to sing to her when she was tiny. Nathan sketches as fast as she can the way they look, Gabriel messy haired after Abigail's bath, soft eyed, smiling gently, Abigail sitting calmly in her pajama (an old shirt of his that she had claimed as a nightgown), and Nathan hopes he can finish this, because he has learned that keeping a five years old calm for more than twenty minutes at a time is nothing short of a miracle. There aren't many pictures at their home, most of the pictures they have taken at Arran's, but sketches, he has dozens of sketchbooks full of Abigail growing up and Gabriel smiling and their little cabin near a lake by now.

Just when he's done with a rough sketch and wouldn't need them to keep still, Abigail tries to turn to look towards Gabriel, who reprimands her gently, promising to put the braid over her forehead like a horn of hair if she doesn't cooperate. Abigail giggles, turns forward again, but then, she looks at him.

"Daddy?" She pauses, waits until Nathan nods at her. "Why are my eyes different than yours or Gab's?"

She's still looking at him, so she doesn't see Gabriel's surprise, or the quick way in which Gabriel decides to save them all before Nathan's ache makes him say something they're not ready to start yet.

"Well, that's because we have different eye colors, of course. Can you name them? What colors are your dad's eyes?"

"Black, Gab, and yours are brown."

"Très bien! Can you say them in French? I bet you can." She can, in a much better accent than Nathan will ever manage. Gabriel grins as he finishes with her braid. "Very good, ma petite champignon!"

And at that she frowns, so very much like him that it is impossible to deny she's his daughter: at five, Abigail already has people believe she's often angry, instead of simply shy.

"Gab, I'm not a mushroom! They're icky!"

"Oh, but that would explain why I want to eat you up!"

Abigail shrieks as Gabriel tickles her, all his hard work on tying her hair lost as Abigail tosses and twists, trying to get free until she actually manages to, jumping off the bed, running towards him. Nathan puts away his sketchbook just in time before she climbs over his knees, and he helps her, steady hands as he holds her close, for his daughter to wrap small arms around his neck, still trying to catch her breath.

"That," Gabriel says, a wide smile on his face. "Is cheating."

Abigail laughs again, her previous question forgotten for now as she cuddles against his arms, but Nathan knows that this is just temporary, that at five Abigail gets easily distracted, yes, but she's smart and curious and so, so loved that she doesn't have why to fear questions, so she will ask again, sooner rather than later, and he will have to tell her, because Nathan knows about the difference she's talking about. Because her eyes aren't like Gabriel's, with gold twisting and sparkling like fireworks, or like his with the tumbles of red lightning.

Abigail's blue eyes have the shards of silver of a White Witch, and while they could explain it, easily, with a simple 'just like your uncle Arran', Nathan can't ignore the truth, knows that one day he will have to face it, because when his daughter smiles and laughs and she dimples at them, the truth is obvious and haunting, because Abigail was never more her Annalise's daughter than when she laughed.

4.  
Fighting with Nathan hasn't become easier after six years of knowing him, probably because they have never really fought that much, all things considered. Disagreed, sure, plenty enough, even before they had a daughter to take care of but they were, in most cases, capable of reaching and agreement, because for all his hard shelled exterior, Nathan absolutely hated fighting with people he cared for and would usually relent towards them, and Gabriel usually only got stubborn about things that matter.

These days, there are very, very few things within that range that make them fight.

Their daughter being one of them.

Because it's his karma that the daughter he never thought he'd have, the daughter he never even wanted, back before he met Nathan, has more of his White Witch mother than his mostly Black Witch father.

Abigail, who knows nothing of hate because the nearest town they live in is made of only Fains who know nothing of the Witch War that decimated half the Black Witch population in the world, who has no idea that the father she adores, who lets her ride his shoulders both as a person and as a wolf, who lets her put pink and purple barrets in his hair is considered now-a-days the worst, most dangerous Black Witch alive.

Abigail, who he can speak French to and she answers, who calls him Gab and loves nothing more than taking her naps on his chest, the cleverest, most darling little girl in the whole world who he loves more than he thought he could. And, as her parents, they'll have to teach her about why the world might hate her.

And his darling little girl who asked, innocently enough, if besides having a dad and a Gab, she might have a mum.

Karma, right there.

"Why did you tell her that?" Nathan asks. They're outside, because the cabin is small and while his anger burns low and even though Nathan has done his best to control his temper through the years, it's still explosive.

And Gabriel, himself, doesn't feel like being quiet on this.

"Because it's the truth. Her mother died in the war."

"Fuck that."

"What, you wanted me to tell our daughter that you murdered her mother and make you a monster?"

"It's the truth!"

"No, fuck that," Gabriel feels his voice go colder. "You want to feel guilty? Fine. But I'm not going to let your blame hurt Abigail."

"I'm not doing that!" Nathan's eyes would burn holes into him, when he's like this. Gabriel doesn't back down. "But she deverses to know the truth!"

"Nathan, she's four. She still believes in fairies, for god's sake!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

The yelling is louder than they expected and the two of them turn, guiltily, towards the door to see if Abigail asks for them. And this brings back so many terrible memories of his mother and father arguing that Gabriel feels his anger drain him, leaving him exhausted, because Annalise has been dead for almost four years now and she still comes between them, trying to steal his happiness away.

When he looks up, he's surprised to find Nathan covering his eyes with a hand, biting his lip hard enought o break the skin. His worry is more than his anger ever was, and he goes to Nathan, hugs him to him. Nathan hitches a little sob as he wraps his arms tight around his waist, pressing his face against his neck the way he does when the nightmares come and Gabriel makes comforting sounds, rubs his shoulders, the tense line of his back.

"I can't lie to her," Nathan whispers, tears against his neck. "Gabriel, don't ask me this, please. Don't ask me to lie to our daughter, please."

Because you don't lie to family.

Gabriel closes his eyes tightly, keeps holding Nathan and tries, tries so hard to keep his temper on check. Because he knows that, if they don't say the truth, eventually, it'll come out and... and it'll be worse.

But he thinks of Abigail's big bright blue eyes and her sweet little face that doesn't know any pain. He takes a deep breath, then lets it go.

"... can we tell her, then, little by little?" He offers.

Nathan looks at him, cautious, and Gabriel shrugs.

"When she's a little older... we both tell her the truth. When she asks," because Nathan, he knows, would blame himself for everything that happened, still considers himself a monster some days, and Gabriel won't let Nathan's daughter to hate him.

And he can just hope that, when she's older, when she knows better, when they have to tell them about Blacks and Whites and about the way their world works, Abigail might just not ask about who her mother was.

3.  
Their cabin is small, there's no way out of it: a small kitchen area, a table, a living area and one room that is mostly Abigail's, a few bookcases he and Gabriel had put for Gabriel's books. Big enough for the three of them, and they dont' really need much more space at the moment, even though they keep talking about, maybe, later, making it bigger, figuring that once Abigail cares more about privacy it might be good, but it's all in a distant future when their kid isn't three years old and still loves spending most of the time with her dads.

They buy nightsmoke from Van for the winter, because while Abigail is still too young for them to know if the Black in her will make it impossible for her to sleep inside, she definitely IS too young to have to worry about Wales cold winter and about being alone. Because she hates being alone more than anything else, and Nathan can understand that.

Nathan pushes open the door slowly, shivering after he washed the blood outside, pausing by the door where Gabriel always leaves him clothes, for when he simply has to become a wolf and let the mind of his animal take over instead of his nightmares.

Gabriel has never said if he ever minded, raising the daughter of the woman he had hated so much, and Nathan admits to being a coward because he has never been able to ask him. Because he knows that Gabriel adores Abigail, knows that Abigail loves Gabriel just as fiercely, probably even more than she loves him because Nathan knows that, sometimes, Abigail is afraid of him. Nathan has done his best to control his temper near her, to try and keep his nightmares away, but sometimes they crawl upon him unannounced and he has scared her, even as he has tried not to.

Like today, when he -- flashbacks, Arran calls them, when he flashbacked to the cage and suddenly he couldn't breathe and he could see Abigail's scared little face and Gabriel moving to pick her up quickly because they both have made her their number one priority always and then he was gone, to the forest, shedding clothes and human form for the fur and limbs of a wolf.

Gabriel and Abigail are sleeping by the chimney, covered only by Abigail's old baby blanket, Abigail sucking her thumb, Gabriel looking unatractive and adorable as he snores, his mouth open, neck twisted in a way that will give him a terrible crick and Nathan loves them so much.

He kneels by the chimney, not daring to touch them, but the wood creaks. Abigail opens her eyes slowly and she smiles at him.

"Welcome home, daddy," she says, warmly and lovingly and unafraid of him, just like Gabriel in her trust of him and Nathan can't stop the tears when they come.

2.  
Abigail's first word is 'dad'. Well, rather, 'dadadadadada', but it still has Nathan grinning like crazy, his eyes bright and happy and worry-free, for once and Gabriel would kiss him if Nathan was even paying a little bit of attention to him. Not that he minds it terribly, this time, that he's not.

"Oh, isn't she brilliant?" Nathan asks, then coos towards the baby as he lifts her. "You are the most brilliant baby, Abigail, yes, you are."

The picture is so adorable that Gabriel doesn't have the heart to remind Nathan that in every baby book they have read - because Nathan has memorized most of the books he has read out loud about raising babies, so it counts- the baby's first sillables is always 'da'.

Instead he grins. "Now, we should work on my name for a second word. Well... 'Gabriel', might be a handful for a baby."

"You want her to call you 'Gabriel?" Nathan looks up at him, curious.

Gabriel shrugs. "As it happens, it is my name, as you might remember calling it last night while I fu--"

He laughs when Nathan pushes him, ears red. Abigail shrieks a happy little laugh and Nathan lets Gabriel pick her up, rubbing his nose against her tummy to hear her giggle again, tiny baby hands trying to grab fistfuls of his hair. 'When the first baby's laugh broke', he recalls, feeling warm all over.

"I wasn't talking about that, you pervert," Nathan huffs, but then he shrugs, looking at him again. "How about 'dad'?"

Gabriel's heart squeezes tightly for a moment, his throat tight, so in love and so happy that he loses his words. When he speaks, his voice is rough. "Thank you. But that's your word for her, Nathan. You should have that with your daughter."

Nathan pushes him again, softly, then leans his head against his shoulder. "She's your daughter, too. Idiot."

There's nothing that Gabriel can say to that because-- she is. Almost a whole year with her and Gabriel knows that he would kill for Abigail, not because she's Nathan's daughter but because she's *his daughter*. He coos when Abigail yawns, lifting her against his shoulder so her little head can fit against the crook of his neck, humming a lullaby that he remembers his mother singing to Michèle and him when they were very young. He doesn't remember the words at all, just his mother humming, picturing the way a six-years-old-Michèle used to twist her own hair with tiny fingers as she fell asleep.

"How about 'Gab',?" he says, softly, not looking at Nathan. "It doesn't sound that different from 'dad', so it shouldn't be too hard for her to be able to say it."

"Gab?" Nathan looks at him, knowing him enough to know that there's something that he's hiding something. But on this, Gabriel doesn't share anything because he has told Nathan almost everything, by now, but there are some precious things that Gabriel would rather keep for himself: his mother's laughter, the first time Nathan said 'I love you'. The way Michèle used to call him. "You hate when people shorten your name, Gabriel."

"Ah, well, daughters get special privileges, don't you know?" Gabriel presses a kiss to the top of the baby's head, right where it smells the most of baby shampoo and her lotion and just Abigail. He smiles at Nathan and he's pretty sure his smile is real. 90% real, for sure. "I think I'd like it, having a cute baby girl calling me 'Gab'."

Nathan looks at him and then he sighs, calls him a dunce, and leans his head against his shoulder again and this is perfect, Gabriel thinks, because his family is right there in his arms and this time he's sure that no-one is going to take them away.

1.  
He was going to let her live.

Most likely against what Gabriel would have thought best, probably something that, just like everything else in his life would have come, eventually, to kick his arse, but Nathan had decided to let Annalise live, with the promise that if she ever appeared before him, he was going to kill her, because he had been so, so tired of killing and he just wanted it to stop and yes, he had wanted the first person in his life that had ever showed him kindness when she won nothing from it to maybe live because, like Gabriel kept saying, he was too soft-hearted.

And then, as he was turning around to get the hell away from her, go away with Gabriel and be over this stupid war and simply be as free as he could, she had raised her gun-- he didn't actually see that, but Gabriel had screamed his name, reaching for his own gun and before he could kill her, before Nathan had even thought about it, at the same time he was turning, before she shot him, he slowed time, the Fairborn in his hand, and he had stabbed her in the chest, right in the heart, so that Annalise died looking at him.

And something inside him broke, even though now he loved Gabriel, even though he no longer loved Annalise: through the past year, his love had turned to hate and his hate had been what, sometimes, had kept him going. Because he had grown to hate Annalise just as fiercely as he had once loved her, and his love for Gabriel felt still soft and precious inside him, the only reason why some days he still knew he was human and not just a monster.

But once upon a time, in a fairytale that he, once, thought he could have, he had loved her and she had loved him. In the once upon a time that Nathan had wished for, when he was a kid, loving Annalise had kept him sane, inside Celia's cage and he had loved her as best, as bright, as fiercely as he knew how... and he had killed him, because maybe everyone had been right about him and maybe the only thing he was good for was killing.

"Nathan, come here"

Gabriel is looking at him and Nathan can't read his expression. His face feels wet (blood? tears? who the fuck knows...) and he stands in unsteady legs towards Gabriel, and Gabriel holds his hand, guides him inside Annalise's small house-- tidy and clean, with flowers upon vases. There's some stuffed animals that doesn't make much sense to him up until they walk inside Annalise's room.

Because there's a crib there, besides the bed, and there's a baby girl laying down on it, soft toys and a frilly blanket, a baby girl wearing with his dark hair and dark skin and grey White Witch eyes. The baby gurgles softly, uncaring about the two strangers looking at her, about one of the strangers that just murdered her mother, and Nathan wonders if ever when he was a baby he was ever that full of trust as Annalise's daughter.

As his daughter.

His hands are still covered with her mother's blood. He's shaking and before Gabriel can touch him he runs away: he's the wolf before he's out of the door, and the only thing they do is run and run and run because when they're the wolf the only worries are now and immediate.

It's several hours until he's able to go back and, when he does, he's muddy and bloody. Annalise's body is covered with a blanket outside, and Nathan has to bite his cheek to remain there in his mind as he walks inside. Gabriel, sitting by the table, goes to him and at least he's not blanking him again, his expression worried and caring, for him. Nathan walks inside the room again and the baby is sleeping, sunset streaming through the windows.

"Her name is Abigail," Gabriel says, sounding tired. "I'm pretty sure she's yours."

"I can't leave her," not again, he thinks, but Gabriel is kind to him and doesn't mention it, even if Nathan knows that he must have thought that as well.

Gabriel just shrugs, points towards the two baby bags he filled with stuff that, Nathan assumes, are for his daughter.

"So we don't."


End file.
